ETERNAL: A Carolina Beach Novel by Cecy Robson, tells the story of what happens when all is lost and then you find the one. Neither Luci nor Landon planned on each other, and they definitely didn’t plan on love in this New Year’s Eve, one-night stand romance. Fans of FLIRTING WITH FIRE by Kate Meader and HOT SHOT by Kristen Callihan won’t be able to put down this emotional and heartfelt read.

If you love Buffy the Vampire Slayer then you’ll love Aria Naveed. Kicking butt and saving people is kind of her thing.

Lovers of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance do NOT want miss out on Danielle Annett’s BRANDED BY FIRE. You must see why Cherry Adair calls BRANDED BY FIRE a novel with “[b]reakneck pacing, a strong fierce heroine, and a twist at every corner”!

SYNOPSISAria Naveed can’t decide what’s worse—being mate-bonded to Declan Valkenaar, the Alpha of the Pacific Northwest Pack, or owning up to the fact that she’s developing feelings for him.

Her bond to Declan is the one thing keeping her grounded and preventing her new power from destroying everything and everyone around her.

If Aria doesn’t tread carefully, especially where her heart is concerned, she’ll learn the hard way that if you play with fire, you’ll always get burned.

“Aria you’re being unreasonable.” He took a step forward and reached out for me. I side stepped away and then put a hand to my forehead when the room began spinning.“Unreasonable?” I ground it. “You asked men within the Pack to court me. You wanted to tie me to the Pack so you could use me.” I was practically yelling at him now. Maybe I wasn’t too tired to fight with him after all.“That was before…” he trailed off.“Right,” I scoffed. “Before you bit me and tied me to you. Before you decided this little mate bond between us somehow made me your soul mate. Now you care about me as a person, is that it? But before I was just a tool for you to use and somehow I should be okay with it? I should be flattered that Declan Valkenaar, Alpha to the Pacific Northwest Pack has picked me to be his mate? Is that what you’re telling me?”I blinked hard as tears threatened to spill. Dammit, why did he have such an effect on me? I rubbed the ache in my chest and turned away from him.He didn’t say anything for several long minutes. I climbed into my bed and tucked myself under the covers as silent tears spilled down my cheeks.The mattress dipped and Declan slid his body into the bed beside me. “Get out,” I choked out.He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled my back flush against his chest.“I’m a bastard.”“I know.”“And I don’t deserve you.”“Glad you’re finally realizing that.”I swiped at the tears on my cheeks and tried to pull away from him but his grip was iron tight.“But I love you.”I sucked in a breath. He, what?I froze, suddenly unable to form any coherent thoughts or words.He didn’t say anything else, just settled in beside me with his arm wrapped tightly around my body and his legs now tangled with mine. I listened as his breathing slowly evened out and realized the exact moment when he fell asleep.Declan told me he loved me. The bond that connected us flared to life at his words and I realized, I believed him.

Danielle Annett is a reader, writer, designer, and the blogger behind Coffee and Characters. Born in the SF Bay area, she now resides in Spokane, WA, the primary location for her Blood & Magic series. Danielle writes about kick butt heroines in volatile settings and like her, most of them have some level of addiction to coffee.When not writing, Danielle can be found hanging out with her two children whom she fondly refers to as her little monsters, or catching up on the latest episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and Game of Thrones.Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

A single mom and tortured musician find common ground in Scarlett Cole’s REDEEMED, the second standalone romance about the band PRELOAD. Elliott “Pyro” Dawson has a past he’s fought like hell to overcome and Kendalee Walker is at her wits end and homeless. Will Kendale provide the family Elliott has never had or will dangerous habits prove to strong? Readers will savor this dark, sexy rockstar romance.

ELLIOTT REDEEMED releases next week and we can’t wait for you to read this sexy Rockstar romance! Pre-order today to not miss this dark and sexy read. Plus enter to win a Preload Bundle!

SYNOPSIS

A single mom and tortured musician find common ground in Scarlett Cole’s Elliott Redeemed, the second standalone romance about the band Preload.

Elliott “Pyro” Dawson burns up the lead guitar like a legend. But the nickname Pyro isn’t just a clever play on words. It’s much darker. A past he’s fought like hell to overcome.

Grocery store cashier Kendalee Walker is at her wits end and homeless. She’s watched her fourteen-year-old son, Daniel, go so far off the rails, he can no longer see the tracks.

When the two are brought together, attraction flares, but can Elliott find the family he never had with the sexy woman and her son, or will he fall back on dangerous habits?

“I was sitting down here,” he said roughly, “because knowing you were in that bathtub only a floor away was fucking killing me.”

She hadn’t heard him come home, but he’d obviously been there a while, as he wore a pair of shorts that rode low on his hips and nothing else. Maybe it was the alcohol making her bolder, but she wanted to run her fingers down the lines of muscle that led down into his shorts. “Elliott,” she whispered, taking a step toward him. She placed her hand over his heart, a heart she knew was capable of good things. His skin was warm, his muscles solid, and she took comfort from the fact he was here with her and that she wasn’t alone. Tentatively, she stroked her hand down his chest, but Elliott placed his hand over hers and studied her intently. His eyes, heavy lidded, telling her that he wanted her as much as she did him.

What was he waiting for? It had all made sense to stand her ground, to not get involved. But now, feeling as she did in her sexy new nightgown after years of feeling unwanted, none of it was relevant. She stepped up onto her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Elliott groaned against her and ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened for him immediately. He nudged the robe off her shoulders, and it slithered to the floor. Softly, he nuzzled his way along her jaw, and kissed her as he had the previous evening along the side of her neck, leaving her knees weak.

Kendalee slipped her fingers into his hair, holding him close. Her heart beat so furiously that she was certain Elliott could hear it. Finally. She’d get to experience what it was to let go and make love with someone who wanted her as she was.

He gripped the silk of her nightdress, pulling it tight around her hips, then let go and slid his hands down her thighs until he reached the hem of the gown. Rough fingertips danced along her skin. In two steps, he backed her up against the counter, then lifted her as if she weighed nothing, making her gasp as the cool marble met her heated skin.

The sensations were impossible to absorb. From the way his stubble tickled her cheek as he kissed her again to the way his calloused hands gripped her knees and pressed them open. As the nightdress rose up her thighs, Elliott stared at the space between them. She was naked beneath the slip of silk, and for a moment, she panicked, trying to recall just how many weeks ago it had been since she’d had the privacy to shave her bikini line.

“Fuck.” Elliott groaned as his hands slid higher, his thumbs almost touching her most intimate places. “We can’t,” he then said and stepped away.

ABOUT SCARLETT COLE

The tattoo across my right hip says it all really. A Life Less Ordinary. Inked by the amazingly talented Luke Wessman at the Wooster Street Social Club (a.k.a. New York Ink). Why is it important? Well, it sums up my view on life. That we should all aspire to live a life that is less boring, less predictable. Be bold, and do something amazing. I’ve made some crazy choices. I’ve been a car maker, a consultant, and even a senior executive at a large retailer running strategy. Born in England, spent time in the U.S. and Japan, before ending up in Canada were I met my own, personal hero – all six and a half feet of him. Both of us are scorpios! Yeah, I know! Should have checked the astrological signs earlier, but somehow it works for us. We have two amazing kids, who I either could never part with or could easily be convinced to sell on e-bay.

I’ve wanted to be a writer for a really long time. Check through my office cupboards or my computer and you’ll find half written stories and character descriptions everywhere. Now I’m getting the chance to follow that dream.Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter

You have the right to use my body to give yourself a delirious, life-changing orgasm.

If you have trouble…don’t worry, I’m a bit of an expert in that department.

There’s nothing ‘thin’ about my blue line, if you catch my drift, and trust me, I know how to put those handcuffs to good use.

***

Livia Ward wants a baby before she’s thirty. And even though Officer Chase Kelly is exactly the kind of cocky jerk this librarian has sworn off, he is undeniably hot. Both of them think they can give each other what they want–a few nights of fun for Officer Kelly, a no-strings baby for Livia–but this hot cop is about to learn that sex, babies, and love don’t always play by the rules.

I’m at the steakhouse fifteen minutes early, which is on time in Chase Kelly’s book. I’ve never been late for work or a date a single time in my life; in fact, I’ve always been early, which is a point of pride for me. And Livia walks in at seven on the dot, something that endears me to her immensely, although the moment I register that I, Officer Kelly, am charmed, my mind goes blank.
Just blank.
There is nothing but her.
She walks in on heels that make her legs a mile long, her long hair down in a tumult of soft waves. The maître d’ helps her take off her checkered wool coat, and then I.
Am.
Speechless.
My heart hammers up in my throat as the blood pools deep in my groin. She’s wearing a bright red dress—so fucking short that I’d be able to finger her easily if we were in a booth, which we tragically aren’t. The red sets off the warm undertones of her bronze skin, highlights the deep brown of her eyes. The lines of it hug the delectable curves of her tits, which are just small enough that she can get away without wearing a bra.
My cock thickens as she begins walking toward me, and I can verify that she is definitely not wearing a bra. Oh God, what if she’s not wearing panties either?
I bite back a groan and push back my chair to greet her as she comes to our table, tugging the hem of my sweater down in one smooth move as I unfold myself to help disguise the effect her presence has on me.
As I step forward to greet her, I notice the color high in her cheeks and the way her teeth dig into the soft coral of her bottom lip.
She looks nervous.
That gives me pause. I don’t mind a woman meeting me cold or shy or overly eager, I don’t even mind a case of the first date jitters—since first dates are pretty much all I go on, I see a lot of those.
But nervous—truly nervous—that bothers me a little. Do I make her feel unsafe? Is it my size? My job?
In a split second, I change gears. I can be patient when it comes to the Kelly Trio, and I find that the idea of wooing my nervous little librarian on date after date doesn’t sound tiresome at all…it sounds delightful, actually. A challenge. A test to see if I’m worthy enough to remove all traces of trepidation from her face and fill her expression with eagerness and surrender instead.
And get more time with this fierce, sweet bookworm all to myself.
I lean in to kiss her cheek, careful to angle our bodies so that I don’t press against her with six feet, two hundred pounds of hungry cop. Instead, I anchor her with a firm hand at her elbow, pleased to feel the goose bumps that spread underneath my touch. And then I brush my lips against her cheek, making sure she can feel them, making sure she gets just the tiniest brush of my scruff as I accidentally-on-purpose slide my jaw against hers as I pull away.
She shivers.
I look down into her eyes as I straighten up, and I’m suddenly aware that I’m supporting a lot of weight in my hand, as if her knees are weak from my kiss.
Well done, Officer Good Times!
Her eyes are wide, the pupils so blown and her irises so dark that her eyes are just huge liquid wells of want, and I feel a familiar tug in my groin knowing that I put that look there.
“I forget how big you are,” she murmurs, her head tilted up to look into my face.
I give her my biggest grin and open my mouth, but she cuts me off before I can say it, shaking her head. “I know, I know. I walked right into that one.”
But the ghost of a smile flits across her lips as I help her into her seat and push in her chair.
When I sit across from her and we start looking at our menus, I notice the smile has vanished and the nervous look is back, along with a determined set to her shoulders. The combination of uneasiness and backbone intrigues and worries me at the same time.
“I don’t know what Megan told you,” I say, “but I don’t bite.”
She looks up from the menu, her teeth back to digging into the plump flesh of her bottom lip.
“Well,” I amend, staring at her mouth, “sometimes I do bite. But only when I really, really want to.”

“Let me get you some ice,” I start to move off my bed when she reaches out and grips me holding me in place.

“No, don’t leave me.”

“Okay,” I soothe. Laying back on my bed, I press her head to my chest as she relaxes I stroke her hair. Seconds tick by into minutes. We say nothing.

“Tell me,” I whisper. “Tell me who did it and I swear I’ll make them pay.”

She sobs into my chest refusing to answer. Minutes tick by as she finally falls asleep. The hours pass and I silently pray my parents don’t come home anytime soon.

They won’t help her. If they find her here, it will only get worse.

I already know marked her. I just can’t do anything if she won’t confirm it.

Tamalyn Andrews is my best friend. I have watched her grow from a girl into a woman. We have gone from playing in ditches together as kids to stealing kisses as teens.

There isn’t a time in my life where I don’t remember her being in it.

She’s also the only person in my whole world, who knows the truth.

We’re not safe here. We’re just too young to escape yet. Eighteen is two months away and I will do everything I can to get us free as soon as the day comes. Until then, sleep against me Tamalyn, find a moment of peace because when she goes home, she’s facing hell.

Find out if Judge gives the devil his due for Tamalyn’s pain in Close the Tab (Devil’s Due MC 3) releasing May 30th through all major e-book retailers! Preorder available now!

The system created to serve and protect failed him. The domino effect of one person’s crime going unpunished has no boundaries.He’s no saint.Bladen ‘Judge’ Jones rides to escape the firm hand of his past. When home is a nightmare, the unknown suddenly isn’t so frightening. Riding with his brothers, the Devil’s Due MC, is more support than he has ever had in his lifetime.She’s not afraid to call herself a sinner.Tamalyn Andrews is a master mixer, hiding out in a small town hick bar on the outskirts of a town for nobodies. Looking over her shoulder is something she can’t stop herself from doing. Old habits die hard.However, danger bellies up to her bar.Will Bladen face his own past to uncover Tamalyn’s secrets? When everything crashes around her, will Tamalyn open up to Bladen in time to save her life?Love, hate, anger, and passion collide as the time comes, and the devil demands his due.

After she was gone, I walked over to the windows and drank in the scene. The Town Center was high enough that it had an unblocked view of downtown Manhattan, Brooklyn, and beyond.
Giddiness surged through me, starting like a pinprick at my center and moving out through my veins in all directions until even my fingers and toes felt warm.
I was really here.
I made it.
It wasn’t the way I thought it would be, but in the end, it still came out of my time at Harvard. I’d always known that connections made the difference in a career, and here I was. Finally. At the top of the world, looking out.
I couldn’t stop grinning.
“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” a male voice came from behind me.
Still smiling, I glanced up and caught his reflection in the window.
And everything disappeared.
The world that had buzzed below, the beautiful scene, the excitement that had unfurled through my body—all of it evaporated and all that existed in its place was a pale, hollow shell of myself and the man in the perfectly tailored suit behind me.
I turned to look at him directly. Our gazes smashed together, and my legs nearly fell out from under me.
“Donovan,” I rasped. It was a miracle that I managed to find enough voice to say that much.
And there was so much more that had to be said. So much more that I hadn’t prepared for. Which was ridiculous since I’d talked to him so many times in my head over the years, practiced so many conversations, but never did he show up out of the blue looking so dastardly handsome in a dark gray three-piece suit, his face rugged with scruff, his eyes hazel and earnest despite the playful smirk on his lips.
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I wasn’t even sure how to breathe anymore.
He broke our gaze to nod out the window at the skyline, walking toward me as he said, “I’m sure you found the Empire.”
Though his focus was now on the scenery, I didn’t take my eyes off him as he approached. He didn’t stop until he was right beside me. So close our shoulders would touch if I coughed. Tension ran off him like foam spilling over from a mug of beer. Good tension. Bad tension. I wasn’t sure if there was a difference when it came to Donovan.
Which was why I was screwed if he was here.
Why the hell was he here?
“I thought you were in Tokyo.” I couldn’t stop staring at him. He’d gotten more refined with age, and rougher at the same time. His hair was short and his curls gone, giving him a polished look he lacked before. The lines by his eyes were more defined and his expression seemed harder than I’d remembered. It made him sexier.
As if he was a man who needed to be sexier than the one I knew.
“I came back two months ago,” he said offhandedly. “That’s it right there.” He leaned his face in close to mine as he pointed to the famous structure. “Do you see it?”
Fuck if I cared about the Empire. I was in Donovan Kincaid’s orbit. What else was there in the world?

When I met Donovan Kincaid, I knew he was rich. I didn’t know he was filthy. Truth be told, I was only trying to get his best friend to notice me.I knew poor scholarship girls like me didn’t stand a chance against guys like Weston King and Donovan Kincaid, but I was in love with his world, their world, of parties and sex and power. I knew what I wanted—I knew who I wanted—until one night, their world tried to bite me back and Donovan saved me. He saved me, and then Weston finally noticed me, and I finally learned what it was to be in their world.And then what it was like to lose it.Ten years later, I’ve found my way back. Back to their world. Back to him.This time, I’m ready. I’ve been down this road before, and I know all the dirty, filthy ways Donovan will try and wreck me.But it’s hard to resist. Especially when I know how much I’ll like it.

USA Today and New York Times Bestselling Author Laurelin Paige is a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime there’s kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters. Her husband doesn’t seem to complain, however. When she isn’t reading or writing sexy stories, she’s probably singing, watching Game of Thrones or The Walking Dead, or dreaming of Michael Fassbender. She’s also a proud member of Mensa International though she doesn’t do anything with the organization except use it as material for her bio. She is represented by Rebecca Friedman.

I turn into the kitchen. She pulls a tray from the oven and smiles. She still wears the date outfit, but the heels are gone. She’s adorable in her fancy dress and bare feet.“Date ended early?”She nods. “When he invited me to see his gerbil, I thought it was time to go.”“That doesn’t entice you?”She shakes her head. “Had he said ferret, perhaps. Alas, with gerbil I’m a firm no.”“Was it in his pants or a cage?”“We didn’t get far enough to find out. I said thanks, I need to water the plants, and I got the hell out of Dodge.”I curl up the side of my mouth. “Guess that explains why Trish didn’t invite me home, either. I tried the hamster line on her.”She smacks me with a panda potholder. “I suppose I should have known better, though. Earlier in the date, he made a ton of masturbation comments.”I lean against the kitchen counter. “And that concerns you, since you never do that, right?”As she slides the spatula under the dessert, she gives me a side-eye stare. “Exactly, Chase. I never rub one out. Never.” She waves a hand over her crotch. “Total hands-free zone.”I take her comment seriously. “Fine. You use toys. I get it. What kind?” I ask, because I can’t help myself.She rolls her eyes. “Not telling you.”I harrumph and grab for a bar from the pan. She swats me with the spatula.“Ouch,” I say, yanking back my hand.“That didn’t hurt. And you should know better than to steal my dessert before it’s ready.”“You should know better than to hit my hands.” I hold both up in the air.With a quickness I don’t see coming, she whacks me again with her utensil. This time on the other hand.“That’s it.” I charge her, tickling her waist. “Tell me what toys and I’ll stop.”She cracks up and flails her arms, knocking me with elbows and hands and the spatula, too, until I give in to her cries for mercy.I stare at her in our tiny sliver of a kitchen. “Waiting.”“You really want to know?”I nod eagerly. I’m playing with fire, but I can’t resist. The desire to know outweighs all else.She works the spatula under the bars again, shaking her head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”I hold out my hands. “C’mon. We talk about all sorts of stuff.” Then, an idea strikes me. I open the kitchen cupboard, grab a bottle of Patron, and hold it up. “This will help all that shyness.”She stares at me with narrowed eyes. “I’m not shy at all.”I grab two shot glasses and pour. “Better safe than sorry, Miss Not Shy At All.”I hand her one, and she takes it. Then I raise my glass, and the drink goes down the hatch with a burn. She follows suit, swallowing it quickly, then sets her glass down. I do the same.I rub my palms together. “Toy confessional time. What have you got?”She arches an eyebrow. “Really? You really want to know?”I narrow my eyes. “What part of your roommate being a dirty bastard do you not understand? Obviously, I want to know. I’m a guy. This is like Christmas morning. But if this helps . . .”I pour two more shots then slide her glass over to her. Once more, we down them.She draws a deep breath. “Since you asked . . . I have a few toys. A little silver bullet. A bigger dolphin. And I have a waterproof finger vibrator.”And the temperature in me shoots through the roof. I tug at the neck of my shirt. “For the shower?” I croak out.“Seeing as we don’t have a bathtub, yes, it would have to be for the shower.”“You masturbate in the shower?” I ask, and the visual is so fucking clear in my mind—Josie under a hot stream of water that slopes off her breasts, a finger vibrator working between her thighs.She nods as she slides the bars onto a cooling rack. Just then I remember she promised me seven-layer bars when she freaked out the other night. And she delivered. Fuck, I think she might be perfect, what with her desserts and her shower hobby.NMST Review

✮✮✮FULL PACKAGE is here!✮✮✮From the New York Times Bestselling author of MISTER O and BIG ROCK, comes a hot & hilarious new standalone romantic comedy…

I’ve been told I have quite a gift.

Hey, I don’t just mean in my pants. I’ve got a big brain too, and a huge heart of gold. And I like to use all my gifts to the fullest, the package included. Life is smooth sailing….

Until I find myself stuck between a rock and a sexy roommate, which makes for one very hard…place.

Because scoring an apartment in this city is harder than finding true love. So even if I have to shack up with my buddy’s smoking hot and incredibly amazing little sister, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

I can resist Josie. I’m disciplined, I’m focused, and I keep my hands to myself, even in the mere five-hundred square feet we share. Until the one night she insists on sliding under the covers with me. It’ll help her sleep after what happened that day, she says.

Spoiler-neither one of us sleeps.

Did I mention she’s also one of my best friends? That she’s brilliant, beautiful and a total firecracker? Guess that makes her the full package too.

What’s a man stuck in a hard place to do?

You can find this sexy standalone romantic comedy across all retailers!

✮✮✮ Enter to win this amazing FULL PACKAGE GIVEAWAY!✮✮✮Josie and Chase put together some of their favorite things just for you to celebrate the release of FULL PACKAGE!

The FULL PACKAGE is filled with:✮ $50 Gift Card to Lush: Fresh Handmade Cosmetics for fruity scented bath products that Chase loves so much.✮ $50 Gift Card to Sugarfina: A Luxury Candy Boutique where you can sample some of Josie’s favorite gourmet candy.✮ A lovely Coach Wristlet containing a $50 Amazon Gift Card for you to spend on whatever your heart desires.✮ And last but not least, my entire Audiobook Collection minus Full Package on Audible. It is aurally delicious!

From New York Times Bestselling author Lauren Blakely, comes THE ONLY ONE, a sexy new standalone novella in her One Love Series, brought to you by 1,001 Dark Nights! Be sure you grab your copy today!

Short, sweet and soooo swoon-worthy!

This book was one of the sweetest reads I’ve had the pleasure of reading, this year. The Only One is a story that tells of Gabriel’s second chance. Gabriel was a character I met when I read Lauren Blakely’s last release in her all male POV romantic comedies. His appearance was small but I was intrigued and extremely excited when I found out he was going to get his only little story under the 1001 Dark Nights novella series.

Though he had a small part in The Sexy One, I can confirm that even though I wouldn’t go without reading any of the books in this Lauren Blakely series, it is NOT required in order to enjoy this novella. It was written so well, that I felt like I knew nearly everything about Gabriel and Penny’s history right from the start.

Penny and Gabriel shared several unforgettable days in Barcelona, Spain and had plans to meet up again, in the U.S., soon. Of course, things don’t work out that way, so when they’re face to face ten years later but it did allow for them to get the second chance to get it right on a permanent basis. They’ve grown so much and cemented themselves in their careers, it felt like the time apart worked out for them. It allowed them to use that time to truly establish their identities.

I can’t tell you how many times Gabriel made me swoon. Half Brazilian, half French AND can cook? Yes, please! I want him for my very own. And the smoothness in which he spoke as he declared his passion, attraction and love? That just gave me tingles. The man had a series way with words.

Penny had an extreme love of animals and gave up a career in finance to raise money to help the animals she loves so dearly. Planning the annual charity event is what brings Gabriel back into her orbit and is the spark they need to not only pick up where they left off, but the second chance they were destined for.

I lean closer to the table, soften my voice. “Forgive me, but you look so familiar…” Her eyes widen, and something vulnerable seems to flash in them. She brings a hand to her hair. “I do?” I nod vigorously. “Yes. So much. It’s eerie.” She swallows. “We all remind each other of others, don’t we?” “Perhaps we do,” I say. I’m not sure what to make of her answer so I return to the matter at hand, telling her more of what I would make for her charity fundraiser. My business manager, Eduardo, alerted me to this opportunity the other day when it landed on his desk. With my new restaurant opening a few months ago, I’ve been looking to make a splash in Manhattan. Reviews have been amazing and business has been robust, but I know that fortunes can turn on a dime. Hell, do I ever f*cking know that. “And I would make the most fantastic desserts for you, too,” I say with a wink, because that reminds me of the afternoon I met the girl in Barcelona—we’d both been eating dessert at a street-side café, where we’d started flirting. “Desserts are my specialty.” “What would you make?” she asks, then she murmurs oh God when I tell her what I’d create for the sweetest course. The soft sound she makes stirs something in my chest, then sends a rush of heat below the belt. That sense of déjà vu sharpens, and a reel of images snaps before my eyes, like puzzle pieces fighting to connect. I scrub a hand over my jaw, arching an eyebrow. It’s driving me crazy. “Are you sure we’ve never met?”

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Jay Crownover returns with her most complicated hero yet, in the first book in the romantic suspense series The Breaking Point.

Don’t be fooled.

Don’t make excuses for me.

I am not a good man.

I’ve seen things no one should, done things no one should talk about. Honor and conscience have no place in my life. But I’ve fought and I’ve survived. I’ve had to.The first time I saw her dancing on that seedy stage in that second rate club, I felt my heart pulse for the first time. Keelyn Foster was too young, too vibrant for this place, and I knew in an instant that I would make her mine. But first I had to climb my way to the top. I had to have something more to offer her.I’m here now, money is no object and I have no equal. Except for her. She’s disappeared. But don’t worry, I will find her and claim her. She will be mine.Like I said, don’t be fooled. I am not the devil in disguise… I’m the one standing front and center.

Maybe if I hadn’t spent the last six months slinging pancakes and greasy hash to hungover hipsters and avoiding the too-curious eyes of the cops who like to hit up the diner for early-morning breakfast, I would have noticed the ominous shift in the air.

Before I came to Denver six months ago, my senses had been honed to pick up on the slightest threat. Before, anything that might be dangerous, that might put me in peril, had made my skin tingle, made everything inside of me vibrate with awareness. Now I had settled into a simple, dreary rhythm. Every day was the same as the one before it and there was no outside threat constantly hounding me, hunting me, haunting me. I let my guard down. I had gone soft, and as a result the biggest danger of them all managed to slip into my new normal without giving any kind of hint he was there.

My nonslip shoe—that were probably the ugliest things ever made but absolutely necessary considering the greasy food the tiny kitchen pumped out—squeaked on the laminate floor as I made my way over to the lone patron who had taken the last available seat in my section. The massive plastic menu completely covered his face, but the Rolex on his wrist and the perfect cut of his suit jacket let me know he wasn’t my typical kind of customer. There wasn’t a flannel shirt or police blues in sight, and as I got closer, a whiff of something exotic and familiar engulfed my senses and stopped me in my tracks. Of all the things I had left behind, he was the one I had tried hardest to forget.

The tingling across my skin spread. My tummy tightened. Blood rushed loudly between my ears. My shaking fingers curled around the pen in my hand like a weapon. Before I could pull it together and walk away, the menu lowered and I was pinned to the spot, immobilized by eyes the color of spice rum.

They were wicked eyes. Eyes that saw far too much and gave nothing away. Eyes I daydreamed about. Eyes that caused me to wake up in a cold sweat. Eyes that turned me inside out and shook me up as they made a slow perusal from the top of my head to the tips of my god-awful shoes, returning to my face and staying there as I struggled to keep my shit together.

He slowly put the menu down on the cracked tabletop and leaned back in the booth. He was strikingly out of place here and I absolutely hated how that sexy twist of his mouth, a mouth that I dreamed about almost every night, made my traitorous heart flutter and my pulse kick.

I was also strikingly out of place here, but I’d learned to fake it. He, obviously, never bothered to fake anything. He wasn’t a man with virtuous intentions and he never pretended to be.

Gone were the mile-high stilettos that I always wore. In their place I now donned work shoes that prevented me from falling on my ass as I ran food and dirty dishes to and from the kitchen. I was hiding in plain sight, knowing that the last place on earth anyone who might come looking for me would check out would be this greasy spoon. This was the opposite of me and the life I had always lived, so even though I could afford better, craved more, this was where I needed to be…until he showed up.

About Jay Crownover:Jay Crownover is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Marked Men, The Point, and the Saints of Denver series. Like her characters, she is a big fan of tattoos. She loves music and wishes she could be a rock star, but since she has no aptitude for singing or instrument playing, she’ll settle for writing stories with interesting characters that make the reader feel something. She lives in Colorado with her three dogs. Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon